


Digging Up Hatchets, Sharpening the Blades

by zara2148



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Dark Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dubious Consent, He Does Not Get One, I think I broke him, Implied/Referenced Torture, Inquisitor Obi-Wan Kenobi, M/M, Maul is touch starved too but its not really dwelled upon, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Obi-Wan has done some horrible things off screen that are referenced, Suicidal Thoughts, Touch-Starved Obi-Wan Kenobi, Unresolved Sexual Tension, basically some unasked for but still appreciated touches happen, everything hurts and i do mean everything, horrible things happen to obi-wan but they’re not maul’s doing, kind of its complicated, references to child murder and child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zara2148/pseuds/zara2148
Summary: “Well, I suppose neither of us expected this.”“Kenobi.” Maul breathes his name like it’s fresh air after an underwater dive, like it’s a moment of anticipation before a punishing blow. “You’re alive.”“Only ironically.”“What was it you said to me once? Something about how only the weak give into the dark side? How you could only be killed, not destroyed? Tell me Kenobi, do you finally understand how there are things so much worse than death?”Inquisitor Kenobi and ex-Sith yet still a Darksider Maul have a discussion with sexual tension. A LOT of sexual tension.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul
Comments: 22
Kudos: 83





	Digging Up Hatchets, Sharpening the Blades

**Author's Note:**

> the average shipper making an AU: Jedi maul and sith Kenobi. Or both Siths/Jedi  
> me, a dumbass: Sad Inquisitor Kenobi and formerly Darth, now just Maul.
> 
> I blame Fallen Order’s heavy implications about what it takes to make an Inquisitor (torture, lots of torture) and Cere’s backstory for this. And just some general "not feeling good about things"-ness
> 
> The title comes from the song “Digging Up Hatchets” by Shayfer James. Honestly, just go listen to Shayfer if you haven’t. So many of his songs have made their way into my playlists since his song “Villainous Thing” randomly popped up in my recs. 
> 
> No beta, we die like Fives. Also, this is my first time posting a fic like this. If I miss any tags that cover triggering content, please let me know.

_“I should kill you.”_

The unsaid words have stilled their tongues, hanging heavy in the air between them. There are no other sounds from the trees around them, the leaves muffling the world beyond this forest clearing.

Of course, Obi-Wan reflects, there’s more than just the silence weighing upon him. He’s pinned down underneath Maul’s bulk, the chill of metal limbs penetrating through his dark uniform — no matter how many layers he wears now, he can never quite seem to feel warm. Sticky ropes wind around his limbs, remnants of the simple trap he unwittingly sprung.

Though Maul’s eyes reflect his own disbelief at this situation, it’s truly not a surprise to have the Zabrak looming over him once more. He can only assume it’s the Force’s will that he and Maul cross paths yet again; he had not expected to find him on this mission.

Local officers had reported a Force wielder in the area, and Obi-Wan had been dispatched to investigate. In hindsight, the report _was_ too brief, as if parts of it had been redacted, leaving out important details such as the species and coloration of the suspected Force user. Allowing Maul to get the drop on him.

“Well, I suppose neither of us expected this.” Obi-Wan is still surprised by how smooth his voice sounds after all the screaming. Even though it must be months since his last session with the machine, strapped down and helpless as the electroshock nodes closed in...

He pushes the machine out of his mind. He does not wish to remember.

“Kenobi.” Maul breathes his name like it’s fresh air after an underwater dive, like it’s a moment of anticipation before a punishing blow. “You’re alive.”

He can’t hold back the retort. “Only ironically.” How good it feels to wield some of his wit again, to banter with someone and not fear a reprisal.

Perhaps he should, knowing Maul’s infamous temper. But in this moment at least, he doesn’t.

“I believe this is your former master’s idea of a prank,” he continues. “Or a test.”

“‘Former?’” Maul snorts, and Obi-Wan can’t quite hold back a smile at the mundane sound. “Have you not noticed how he rules over all of us more openly than ever?”

“It _is_ rather hard to miss.” He leverages what muscle he can into a sinuous movement; it’s not so much a desire to shake Maul off him as it is a refusal to just lie here passively.

Maul ignores the jibe and the weak attempt to dislodge him. “And since you’re apparently too slow to have learned this yet, know this — with him, everything is a test.”

“Thank you for the advice.” Obi-Wan reaches for the anger that Sidious has lectured him about, but he does not find it waiting for him. Only a dull ache and a starved yearning for… for something he can no longer name.

He digs deeper, reminding himself what Maul has taken from him. Master Qui-gon and Satine, lost to him forever… but even now, even like this, old Jedi teachings resurface. He was to care for others, to love them, but never to covet them as if they were shiny trinkets.

They were never his to possess, though it was cruel of Maul to kill them all the same. But it’s not as if Obi-Wan is a stranger to cruel acts. He wasn’t then, and he certainly isn’t now.

Mail re-rails their conversational train back to its previous track, gripping Obi-Wan’s sides tightly.

“I knew you lived.” There’s an unmistakable chuckle caught up in his voice, edging on a happy sob. “Death would not come for you so easily.”

Obi-Wan sometimes wishes it would, that he had died that day on Utapau. It would have been simpler than everything that had followed.

“Still,” Maul muses aloud. “I would have expected to find you trying to create order within the disorganized mess passing itself off as a rebellion. Like the Lady Tano.”

“She’s alive?”

A thoughtful hum as Maul’s fingers stroke the sides of his dark grey overcoat. “Oh, if only she could see you now…”

His fiery, bloodshot eyes meet Obi-Wan’s dull gaze. His body stills with Maul’s reminder of just _what_ Ahsoka would see. 

He’s glimpsed his reflection in mirrors, how his irises are closer to brass than a true gold. The Dark Side has taken a hold of him, but its grip is weak. Thrust upon him rather than truly chosen.

Still, he feels its tendrils wrapping around him, the call of the Light denied to him. If Ahsoka was in front of him now, she would be well within her rights to strike him down. But... perhaps Ahsoka would cling to the old version of him too much to see what he’s become.

Relief settles in his bones, even as other emotions rise to the surface. “She must be Bail’s secret to success, then.” Vader had been fruitlessly pursuing Bail and the twins for months now, after Obi-Wan revealed their location. 

That is, when Sidious wasn’t calling his apprentice to heel.

Obi-Wan’s mouth somehow still remembers how to smile, tracing the once-familiar path upward. Something fiercer and more malignant than the expected hope and joy brightens his face, giving the smile a nasty edge.

It’s anger satisfied. Vader will have his work cut out for him, trying to outmaneuver both Bail _and_ Ahsoka.

Confusion crosses Maul’s face at his smile, at this scrap of hope he can cling to, before it's overrun by annoyance. “What about this situation could possibly amuse you?”

He laughs sharply, ignoring how Maul’s face stiffens at the sound. “You’ve just given me some of the best possible news I could receive. Thank you, Maul.” His body quivers with the aftershocks of his chuckles, imagining Ahsoka spitting righteous anger at Vader’s helmeted mask.

Maul appears uncertain and irked by his uncertainty. Obi-Wan supposes he truly is doing a horrible job of being a helpless captive, but he’s had too much practice to not project _some_ confidence.

Or so he thinks, until Maul starts speaking again. “Succumbed to madness at last, Kenobi?” he asks in a droll, unconcerned voice. “But, no, that’s not it… I feel how you have chosen what you once rejected. Your hatred, your anger… but they are not for me.” Now he detects a sense of… loss in Maul’s voice.

He shifts atop Obi-Wan. “No, they are for Sidious,” the name is said as if might summon a wrathful god, Maul’s voice dropping to a fearful whisper, “and your former apprentice.”

“What was it you said to me once? Something about how only the weak give into the dark side?”

Maul closes the distance between their faces, and Obi-Wan can’t look away from the wealth of microexpressions as he continues speaking. “How you could only be killed, not destroyed?”

Hot breath hits his face as Maul delivers the final blow. “Tell me Kenobi, do you _finally_ understand how there are things so much worse than death?”

He swallows, the word ‘yes’ too heavy with shame to leave his tongue. Memories claw out of their confines, ready to drag him back down under…

_“This crafty Jedi knows more than he has let on, my apprentice,” Sidious’s affectation of a wheedling old man’s voice drills into his skull. His presence, his intentions, slither through Kenobi’s thoughts, weak as his shields are after days of no sleep or mediation._

_He is more than just this flesh, but it does not exempt him from his body’s limitations._

_A hand settles his chin, crooking his head upward. He does not resist. He no longer has the strength to put up the fight that he should._

_‘You should be stronger, better than this,’ his inner voice had chided, back when his thinking was clearer. ‘After everything else, after Zygerria, Mandalore, Utapau... is this the trial that will leave you undone?’_

_The grin on Sidious’s face seems too wide, stretching beyond his cheeks’ capacity, the eyes too yellow and bright._

_‘Hallucination,’ his weakening sense of rationalism provides. Yet he feels as if he’s seeing the once Chancellor for what he truly is — an ever-widening maw that will devour anything he touches._

_“I am aware, my master,” Vader drones. “So far, he has proved resistant to revealing any information about remaining insurrectionists.”_

_Anakin would never sound so cold, so detached. That was never who he was. Where is Anakin, in this dark figure before him? He must be dead, this thing a mechanical shell._

_Sidious releases a thoughtful hum, tapping a finger against Obi-Wan’s cheek. “Perhaps it would help if he recounted things for us from the beginning.” His tone acquires a veneer of kindness. “Surely you can recall that much for us, Master Jedi? Engraved as the day must be in your memory?”_

_No, he doesn’t want to, there was so much pain then..._

_Sidious slinks deeper, his voice sickening and soothing. “Come now, Master Jedi. Indulge us with your_ **_fond_ ** _reminiscences.”_

_He does not resist the nudge that sends his mind back in time. Terrible though that day was, even as darkness engulfed the galaxy there was still hope and a sense of purpose…_

_“Obi-Wan... there is good in him. I know there is... still…”_

_The weight and warmth of a newborn Luke in his arms, as Padme’s spirit becomes one with the Force._

_Whispering reassurances to the boy he didn’t entirely believe, even as he couldn’t hold back the rising hope when the boy blinked his eyes open for the first time, blue eyes meeting blue._

_His recollections are interrupted as the metal around them screeches. His head bangs against the restraints as Vader stretches out his arm, his throat clenched in an unseen vice._

_Even with the limitations of the modulator, Vader’s voice is a roar. “WHAT DID YOU_ **_DO_ ** _WITH PADME’S CHILD?”_

_“Children,” he croaks in a moment of absolute weakness._

_The grip tightens, and spots decorate his vision. His mind’s eye recalls, almost against his will, how hollow his arms felt as he handed Luke over to Bail._

_“I promise you, my friend, two babies will be no more trouble than one. My wife will adore them both.”_

_Obi-Wan does not put up the fight that he should. How can he allow Luke or Leia to endure the casual hardships of Tatooine, when Bail can provide so well for each of them? The man is already looking down on the two infants with a father’s love..._

_“ **Senator Organa.** "_ _The name is a rasped hiss, a death sentence. Vader’s hand closes in a fist, and it’s awful relief that seizes Obi-Wan as he struggles to breathe. It will all be over soon, he’ll be one with the Force and free of this pain…_

_Sidious’s voice, cool and unhurried, puts a stop to that._

_“Release him, my apprentice.”_

_Vader obeys far more swiftly than he ever did when he was Obi-Wan’s student. Something harsh sparks within Obi-Wan at that thought, even as his head slumps forward in exhaustion._

_“Yes, good…” Sidious coos like he’s handling a newborn babe, or watching an infant take their first steps. “Let the anger within you grow.”_

_The anger — because yes, Sidious is right, it is anger and resentment and the beginnings of what might be hatred — twists deeper, the words stoking something in Obi-Wan. How dare Sidious try to set him up as another one of his broken puppets._

_Sidious gives an indulgent, grandfatherly chuckle before he continues. “Your ire is rightfully directed, but perhaps mischanneled, Lord Vader.” Obi-Wan can hear the grin in his voice, even if he cannot see it. “I have every confidence that the one formerly known as Obi-Wan Kenobi will soon learn his place, as you have. With some guidance, of course.”_

_Even his exhaustion is not even to drown Obi-Wan’s swell of fear. Nor are Sidious’s cackles enough to drown out the growing hum of the electricity nodes._

His breath is coming in harsh pants now, and Obi-Wan is unsure whether he would rather attribute that to the aftereffects of his memories or to how Maul’s attention has turned from verbal taunts to physically teasing him.

Hands are running down the front of his uniform, warming the fabric and rubbing it against his skin. Obi-Wan’s body arches into the touch, chasing an almost forgotten sense of pleasure. 

Worse, Maul is not oblivious to the effect he is having, if the wicked grin gracing his face is anything to go by. “It would seem you are weak in more ways than one.” Fingers dig into the grey fabric, grasping it harshly. “They broke you down, then dressed you up to put your shame on full display.”

_A droid attendant hands him the grey-black uniform. The fabric slips easily over his bruises._

_The question of how long he’s been here flits through his mind, but he has no desire to pursue the answer. It would be a simple matter of consulting a calendar and counting back the days. But what would it profit him to know how long it took him to break, to confront his own weakness?_

_Then, he’s handed his lightsaber. The kyber’s resonance, its ‘voice’, seems to warble with uncertainty._

_He meets the unmoving, glassy gaze of Vader’s helmet. “Please don’t make me do this, Anakin.”_

_“That name no longer has any meaning to me.”_

The Inquisitorius uniform is designed for efficiency, discreet buttons and snaps making it easy to remove.

Maul ignores all of them to rip his uniform off.

It should feel violating, but what Obi-Wan feels is freed. His breathing remains labored, but with anticipation instead of remembered fear. 

His nipples stiffen under the forest’s chill air. He’s always been sensitive to the cold. A warm hand, warmer than a human’s, falls upon his chest, leisurely stroking downward. Sharp, claw-like nails scratch along his skin, leaving red marks in their wake.

A soft moan escapes him as Maul’s leans forward more, hot breath blowing upon his hardened nipples. His hips roll upward in a clear request.

The Zabrak’s tone is mockingly thoughtful. “Is this your standard practice when hunting Force users?”

“No.”

_A child’s cry cut off before it even begins, its body crumpling to the ground. As per Vader’s orders._

_It’s preferable, he tells himself, to what they would face if he brought them in. If he allowed the Emperor to twist them up as he does with everything that enters his orbit._

_Vader guards his position too jealously for that, ensuring no one will grow to rival his power and challenge his position of apprentice._

_It’s why Vader regards every Inquisitor with a suspicious eye. Even him._

“I don’t want to talk about them.”

Maul does not bother acknowledging his statement, his questing hand pausing as it reaches the waistline of his pants. Instead of continuing downward, its path diverts to the side. 

To where his lightsaber hangs from his hip.

 _He holds the crystal in his palm. The kyber is no longer emitting a melodic hum. It screams as he pours his anger, his helplessness, his_ **_pain_ ** _into it._

_A selfish part of him hopes that in doing so, his own sense of his feelings will lessen._

_The crystal resists, showing him the disappointed faces of his loved ones… Masters Yoda and Qui-Gon, Ahsoka, Bail, Mace, Cody, Satine..._

_… Anakin..._

_Tears run down his face, not enough to blind his vision as the crystal changes._

Once, that lightsaber was his life. Now, Obi-Wan allows Maul to take it from him without a protest. Maul leans back, his eyes considering the saber’s untouched hilt.

With a press of the button, a red blade flickers into existence.

Maul’s wrist moves the lightsaber through a few basic positions, testing how the blade would weave through stances. The thought crosses Obi-Wan’s mind that Maul could bring it down on him and end his life. He feels no fear at the thought.

A satisfied smile curls Maul’s lips as he switches the blade off. Then he stands up, the lightsaber still in his hand. He turns away, prepared to leave this clearing with his prize.

“That’s all you wanted?” Obi-Wan resists wincing at the clear disappointment in his voice. The answer is all too obvious, but asking it will delay Maul’s departure.

Because suddenly, inexplicably, there’s nothing more in the galaxy he wants than Maul’s company.

So there’s something infuriating about how the man doesn’t glance back, even as he answers indifferently, "I had intended to kill whatever Inquisitor came sniffing around here..."

"And will you kill me?"

A pause. “No.” Maul turns back to look at him fully. “It’s as I said. There are worse things for you to face than death.” His brow ridges rise in faux-innocence while his lips curl into a smirk. “Perhaps you’ll be given one of those _wonderful_ whirring contraptions as a replacement.”

“That _is_ a fate worse than death,” he agrees somberly. “And you will be…?”

The grin Maul gives him is vicious and sets his heart to pounding. “Securing _my_ future.”

“I see.” Bound as he is, Obi-Wan manages to sit up with minimal wriggling. “I suppose this is my last chance to offer you to join us or die.”

A bark of disbelieving laughter escapes Maul. It’s a heady sensation for Obi-Wan, making someone laugh again.

“As if you could kill me.” He shakes his head, his amusement clear. “Run back along to your masters, **_Jedi_ **.”

Even as Maul disappears into the trees, metallic footsteps fading away, warmth suffuses Obi-Wan. To Maul, he will always be a Jedi, regardless of what he’s done.

Something settles in him, similar to the peace he felt in the Jedi temple, even as he frantically works at his bounds.

He’s no longer a Jedi. He can never be one again. But there’s a hunger in him for the pretense. He was once something good…

He would like to be that again.

Eventually, his bounds snap. It’s awkward, gathering the remains of his torn uniform around him. Still, he’s not quite ready to cast it off and pursue Maul shirtless, amusing turnabout though it would be.

His ship lies behind him. He has no plans of returning for it.

Instead, he follows the path Maul’s taken.

**Author's Note:**

> Will there be more of this verse? I do not know. There's certainly some scribbled stuff about what happens later, as well as stuff about the torture that got cut, like my idea of Obi-Wan being forcibly de-bearded since Vader canonically made the Inquis-squad sacrifice a body part.
> 
> Also, I know it’s really unaddressed that Sidious told Vader his wife and child died, that Vader should show a sense of betrayal about this. Imagine they got into it slightly offscreen or something, with Sidious blaming the lying Jedi for hiding his children from him.
> 
> It amuses me to think that Maul is consciously ‘playing it cool’ at the end. He’s played hard to get rid of, now it’s time to try simple, old-fashioned hard-to-get.
> 
> If you like this, feel free to check out the other obimaul works I've done. They're happier than this one, I promise.


End file.
